


The Turing Test

by liketolaugh



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, ワンパンマン | One-Punch Man
Genre: (I try to be fair though), Autistic Genos, Autistic Peter Parker, Civil War Team Iron Man, Communication Failure, Gen, I have so many autism headcanons fucking fight me, It'll come up but it's not centric, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Trans Genos, Trans Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-07 09:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: Genos' pursuit of the Mad Cyborg leads him to find a place on the Avengers, where communication is a foreign concept and Steve and Tony can't seem to agree on anything at all.





	1. Chapter 1

Doctor Kuseno was a deceptively unassuming man, Tony noted as he stepped closer. He looked like any other aged scientist – nearing retirement, even. He wasn’t fooled, of course; SHIELD had been tracking the man since he began his pursuit of the Mad Cyborg. (Tony could come up with a better epithet in his sleep, but whatever.)

“Mr. Stark,” Dr. Kuseno greeted in accented English, offering his hand. “Thank you for agreeing to this arrangement.”

Tony smirked back, taking it. “A new heavy hitter, a tech marvel, and another chance to piss off Cap all in one? Pleasure’s all mine, doc.”

Kuseno coughed out a laugh, eyes glittering. “You and the Captain have not quite reconciled, I take it?”

Tony held his smile with a minor exertion of will. “You could say that,” he said vaguely, and then nodded at the metal man standing stiffly to the side. “This is Genos?”

“I am Genos,” the man confirmed, dipping forward in a shallow bow even as amber-on-black optics fixed intently on Tony. “Thank you for this opportunity. The Mad Cyborg’s transfer to America was highly unexpected, but now I can at last continue my pursuit.”

“Sure, kid,” Tony dismissed distractedly, not in the mood to hear about a crusade of vengeful justice, instead stepping a bit closer to look. Genos’ eyes tracked him smoothly, shaping subtly into confusion. “Ninety-eight percent metal, huh? You were lucky to survive the procedure.”

“Doctor Kuseno is highly skilled,” Genos said loyally, twisting slightly to keep Tony in view as the man paced around him.

“And you’re aging, even,” Tony continue, reluctantly coming to a stop back in front of Genos. He cast Kuseno a quick glance, catching the pride in the man’s expression, and then back to Genos to continue, “You _look_ twenty. That’s delicate stuff.”

“Doctor Kuseno and I have spent much time experimenting with changes in shape and size,” Genos explained, face subtly closed. “We are quite used to the procedure by now.”

Tony hummed, fascinated. Genos’ face was shifting fluidly, almost indistinguishable from an organic one, and Tony could just hear his internal fans picking up. _Emotional cues,_ even, built in where they couldn’t stay natural. Kuseno had clearly put his all into this.

Finally, Tony pulled back and grinned.

“You and I are gonna get along just fine, kid.” Ignoring Genos’ confusion, he turned to Kuseno. “I got the blueprints; pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. I’ll make good use of ‘em, don’t you worry.” He winked, knowing full well he didn’t intend anything sinister.

Kuseno quirked a place, unperturbed, and nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “Do call me if there’s trouble, please.” He turned to Genos as Tony waved the words aside. “Take care, please, child. Mr. Stark is not as experienced with cyborg repair as I am.”

“Hey!” Tony protested, affronted. They didn’t call him a genius for nothing, and he’d had over a week to research cyborg biomechanics.

Kuseno ignored him. “And remember to slow down sometimes. You are close, but you do not want to wear yourself out. You still have a life to live even after you reach your goal.”

“I will be careful,” Genos promised, noticeably softer. “Thank you. I will call when I can.”

Kuseno rolled his eyes and huffed, and then, when a moment passed without anything more, he reached forward and pulled Genos into a swift, tight hug. Genos stiffened, and then carefully returned it, at which point Tony turned away pointedly.

A few minutes later, Genos came up beside him, stiff and formal again, his bag slung over one shoulder.

“What should I call you?” he asked Tony awkwardly.

 _“Tony,”_ he said firmly, thinking of Peter, who still called him no such thing. Speaking of which- “Now c’mon, kid. You’ve got good timing; there’s someone else joining the Avengers right now.”

Genos made a questioning noise, but Tony ignored it.

Because of the difficulty of bringing a cyborg through airport security, Tony had come to get Genos himself, on a private jet. Thinking vaguely of Peter’s interest in biomechanics and superheroes both, he hadn’t thought twice before inviting him along. It seemed the logical and mentorly thing to do.

Besides, as Tony had said, they’d be joining the Avengers at the same time. Best they make friends now.

Sure enough, Peter perked right up as soon as the two of them boarded, stuffing his phone in his pocket and springing eagerly to his feet.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter protested immediately. Tony fought the paired urges to roll his eyes and smirk, and ended up doing both anyway. “You didn’t say it was Demon Cyborg!” Without waiting for a response – he was getting uppity – he turned to Genos. “It’s so cool to meet you, wow we’re going to be _working_ together, this is _amazing,_ hey how are you powered, is it all biofuel or do you-”

And he was so disgustingly _earnest._

“Breathe, Peter,” Tony interrupted, openly chuckling now. Genos was staring at Peter in plain confusion, while the kid, as usual, looked just about ready to shake out of his skin. “Let him sit so we can head back.”

Peter blushed.

“Right,” he agreed reluctantly, sitting down. After a moment, Genos sat beside him, slow and stiff. Brave man.

Ha. Bringing Peter along had _totally_ been the right call.

The jet took off, and Peter turned back to Genos, eyes glittering. Tony grinned to himself and bent over his pad, pretending to lose himself in a copy of Genos’ blueprints. Which, actually…

“I’ve been following you since you joined the HA,” Peter told Genos earnestly, blissfully unaware of how like a stalker he sounded. “You’ve really done some amazing work, I can’t even- and you’re learning from an A-Class, right? Saitama?”

Tony tilted his head slightly, listening; he hadn’t known that. Then again, that was about par for the course when it came to lesser heroes. Peter followed hero-related news much more closely.

Genos still looked stunned, but the mention of Saitama seemed to ground him again. He nodded.

“He has been teaching me for over a year,” he confirmed. “In fact, it was sensei who encouraged me to come here. But I am surprised you call him that.”

Peter ducked his head. “He doesn’t like to be called Caped Baldy, right?”

Tony snorted. Loudly. Both boys turned to look at him, and he waved them off, smirking. Simultaneously, they both apparently elected to ignore him and moved to face each other again.

 _Caped Baldy._ It might be worth tracking new heroes just to hear about names like that.

Genos favored Peter with his first, faint smile.

“No, he does not,” Genos confirmed.

“There seems to be a lot of mystery around him,” Peter continued, giving Genos a crooked smile in return. “SHIELD was running an investigation before they fell, but they didn’t really find anything. But I think he’s stronger than he lets on. Isn’t he?”

How much time had Peter _spent_ looking through the public SHIELD files?

Genos’ smile broadened slightly. “Much,” he said with certainty. “It is what led me to follow him originally, though in reality he has taught me more of wisdom and compassion.”

“I heard he and Mumen Rider are good friends,” Peter continued doggedly, brightening steadily as Genos entertained the conversation. “Is that true?”

“They share many moral values,” Genos explained. “Sometimes they play games together, and Mumen occasionally stays for dinner.”

Peter grinned. “Then you must be friends with him too!”

Genos bobbed his head, and then added, “Mumen makes friends very easily. I believe all of C-Class has at least one fan shirt.”

“I do, too,” Peter confided, and Genos chuckled.

“What is your hero name?” Genos asked, his first active contribution to the conversation. “I try to keep track of current events. Perhaps I know of you.”

“Oh!” Peter sat up a little, offering an embarrassed, but proud smile. “I’m, um. Spider-Man.”

The relative openness was new, but it had been a condition of joining the Avengers. Even if the public remained in the dark, Peter’s teammates would need to know his name and face. It hadn’t been as hard a sell as Tony was expecting; for all his worry and attempted secrecy, Peter was naturally a rather open kid.

Genos seemed to mull that over for a moment, and then nodded seriously.

“A New York vigilante,” he noted. “Super strength?”

“And I can stick to walls,” Peter confirmed, pleased. “Plus a healing factor. Super useful.”

Genos smiled again, slight but honest. “It is good to meet you.”

Excellent. Tony repressed the urge to cackle like a cartoon villain.

“Hey!” He snapped his fingers, and both of them looked at him again. Good minions. “Glad we’re all getting along so nice. Now, for the sake of preparation, here’s how this is going to work. Steve doesn’t know you’re coming yet, I’m just about to pop him a message, so he’ll be pissy but he doesn’t have the authority to stop you.”

Peter scowled a little, which was not an uncommon reaction to mention of Cap these days. It was frankly adorable. Tony smirked back.

“Feel free to piss him off all you like, honestly, I’ll back you up if it comes to that. You’ll be sharing a floor, let FRIDAY know if you need anything – Genos, what _do_ you run on?”

“Primarily biofuel,” Genos answered promptly, “supplemented by some oil and petroleum.”

“FRIDAY’ll take care of that,” Tony went on without so much as missing a beat. “Let me know if you need repairs, I’ve got your blueprints and I don’t bite unless strictly necessary. Peter, you mostly know what’s what already, just don’t hiss too loudly at any of our friends on the other side.” He clapped, once, as Peter huffed petulantly. “Any questions?”

God, he felt like a schoolteacher. But it was pretty nice to see the two of them hanging on to his every word like that.

Genos shook his head, and a moment later, Peter did the same.

“Then be free,” Tony declared, waving his hand. Watching them talk was hilarious; he wasn’t done yet.

Peter snorted quietly and Tony grinned at him, but Genos shrugged and seemed to take him at his word, looking back at Peter.

“How did you gain your abilities?” he asked, clearly interested.

Peter flashed him a rueful smile. “Experimental spider bite,” he admitted. “It’s kind of… weird.”

Genos shrugged. “My teacher claims to have gained his abilities from a fairly ordinary exercise routine. Whatever works.”

Peter grinned and nodded.

“Why did you start?” he asked. Genos’ expression shuttered, falling into a stern frown, and Peter added quickly, “You don’t have to tell me.”

Genos, solemn now, opened his mouth. Tony cringed as he recognized the Monologue Expression. A moment later, though, Genos frowned, closed his mouth, counted under his breath for a few seconds, and then said,

“A cyborg destroyed my city, so I set out to destroy him.”

God, Tony could _kiss_ whoever had trained that into him. Kuseno? Tony might be willing to kiss Kuseno for sparing him a monologue he was sure would have given him nightmares.

Peter’s smile had vanished, though, and after he spent a long moment regarding Genos with an equally solemn expression, he offered in return, “I didn’t save my uncle, so I’ll save everyone else I can.”

The two of them nodded at each other, as if gaining new kinship and understanding, and Tony felt a bitter smirk tug at his mouth as he opened the messaging app. Aw, they were so cute with their baby traumas.

They’d fit in fine.

* * *

Just before they landed, Tony shot Peter a cocky grin. In return, Peter tensed uncertainly, and Tony had to hold back a laugh. Peter was learning.

And just as expected, when the door opened, Captain Spangles was waiting, arms crossed and face pinched with disapproval.

“Red-white-n-blue!” Tony greeted the man with a broad and insincere grin, feeling his heart tighten in his chest at the sight of him. “Did you get my message, then?”

“Yeah, I did,” Steve said flatly, gaze unwavering. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Anytime, Capsicle, anytime,” Tony said easily, striding down the ramp with a slight gesture to hold the other two back. “Come out to meet the new recruits? What a _good_ and _responsible_ team leader you are.”

Steve’s mouth tightened. God, Tony loved winding him up; it was so satisfying.

“I wouldn’t want them to feel unwelcome,” Steve replied steadily, giving away nothing else of his thoughts. Then, in a sharp return to business, “What did you bring us?”

Tony relaxed slightly, glanced back, and flicked his hand in a beckoning gesture. Peter and Genos, hovering just out of sight, exchanged a weary look and then moved to follow him off the jet, Genos just a step behind Peter.

Peter, now, was visibly unsure, shoulders stiff with defiance as he picked his way down, gaze flicking between Steve’s chest and Tony’s ear. Genos, by contrast, had wiped all expression from his mechanical face, eyes flicking once over Tony and settling on Steve.

“Cap,” Tony started – about as respectful as he got these days – and then, with a hint of pride he couldn’t quite suppress, “This is Peter, also known as Spider-Man. You might remember him – local vigilante, super strong, wall crawler, stole your shield once?”

“Experienced at cleaning up your messes,” Steve noted, without changing expression or tone. Because of course he knew about that. The man broke his stern countenance briefly to nod at Peter. “Spider-Man, good to have you with us. No hard feelings, of course.”

Peter smiled, tight and uncertain. “Of course,” he echoed, which was a dirty, dirty lie; Tony knew for a fact that Peter’s grudges against Steve were extensive and numerous.

“I’ve been mentoring him for a while, he’s more than ready,” Tony continued. He offered Peter a quick grin, and then continued, jerking his head towards the other new face. “This is Genos, the Demon Cyborg. Bigshot back at home, you understand. I know ‘cyborg’ might be a bit much for your 1940’s brain, but I promise he won’t blow up.”

Steve’s expression shifted into subtle, incredulous disapproval, which was interesting because Tony hadn’t actually meant for that to happen this time.

“It is an honor, Captain,” Genos offered, voice carefully neutral.

Steve inclined his head slightly, but, uncharacteristically, didn’t return the greeting or take his eyes off Tony.

“You’re an interesting man, Tony,” Steve said quietly, as if they were still friends, still close. Then he shifted back and shrugged. “Get them settled in, introduce them to your people. I’ll explain the situation on my end.”

Steve rarely acknowledged the divide remaining between the two parts of their team. For that matter, Tony didn’t mention it much either. Tony smiled tightly.

“Can do, Spangles. Have fun.”

Steve gave Tony a terse nod, and then turned and left. Only when the door shut behind him did Tony relax and turn back to face the two newest.

“Come on in,” he said with finality, as light as if the tension between him and Steve did not exist. “I’ll get you introduced to the cool kids. You’ll meet Cap’s people over time.”

* * *

To Steve’s gratitude, half the team was waiting for him when he returned to his floor, assembled and ready. Scott and Sam were fiddling with Sam’s wing pack, making minor repairs. Clint and Wanda were arguing quietly, and Bucky was by himself, gaze steady on the door, waiting for Steve.

Steve offered him a small smile in greeting, a moment’s pause before he got to business, and then crossed the room to settle on a chair, drawing everyone else’s attention to him.

“So what did Stark do this time?” Clint asked with a small grin, dark amusement dancing across his face as he faced forward again.

Steve let himself sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

“He’s recruiting,” he said dryly, thinking of the wide-eyed and wary look on the kid’s face. He shook his head wearily. “Two new teammates. A kid and a robot.”

And it was so _like_ Tony to use the fancy, technical term for something just to mess with him. God knew what the pedantic difference between a cyborg and a robot was, but the days when Steve could just _ask_ had long passed.

There was a brief, stunned silence. Bucky shifted back and raised his eyebrows, looking mildly impressed with Stark’s absurdity.

Sam did, too. “That man is something else,” he remarked, shaking his head. And then, concerned, “A kid? The hell is he thinking?”

Steve shrugged helplessly. “It’s Spider-Man,” he conceded, voice tinged with doubt regardless. “He has experience, and he’s proven already that he can keep up with us.” He huffed quietly. “It’s _ambiguous,_ but it’s not really our call, either.”

Sam’s grimace deepened, and Clint hissed his disapproval, lines digging into his forehead.

“I am more interested in the robot,” Wanda chimed in, head tilted just slightly in a way that sharpened her gaze. “Is he that desperate to pad his numbers?”

Steve winced, and Clint jabbed Wanda in the side.

Once circumstances had forced the Avengers to reunite, the Accords set aside as a matter for a later date, Steve had initially hoped that things could go back to how they used to be.

He had swiftly been proven wrong, but of all the differences their conflict had wrought, the one that hurt the most was the deep, lingering divide down the middle of the team.

“I don’t know,” Steve said at last, and then shrugged. “Maybe.”


	2. Chapter 2

One of the biggest surprises about FRIDAY was that she didn’t share JARVIS’ rather suspect sense of humor. In hindsight, Tony felt that he should have expected it.

Unlike JARVIS, who was activated in a near-empty house during one of the loneliest phases of Tony’s life, FRIDAY had been dropped into a fully-formed and distinctly tumultuous team, only shortly before she was called to mind Karen and, by extension, Peter.

It the end, FRIDAY developed into someone carefully polite, cautious, and chiding, with a lighter and more overt sense of humor than JARVIS had had.

Tony ached, and he wasn’t sure if it was pride, grief, or disastrously encroaching old age.

The result of this, though, was that she remained silent until they reached the elevator, and when the doors closed, the speakers crackled just briefly before she spoke.

“Hello boss, Peter. I see the retrieval went well.”

Genos started, but only slightly, tilting his head back and locating the main speaker almost immediately. Tony stifled a smirk; Steve had jumped a foot the first time JARVIS spoke to him, and then turned around two full times before either of them explained.

Good times.

Beside Genos, Peter snickered a little and elbowed him gently, gesturing upward.

“That’s FRIDAY,” he explained, taking all the fun out of Tony’s life. “She’s an AI, and she runs Mr. Stark’s house.” Peter gave the speaker a grin, eyes bright and glittering. “She’s great.”

“An AI,” Genos echoed, audibly interested and still looking intently at the speaker. “It is a pleasure to meet you, FRIDAY.”

“And you, Genos,” FRIDAY returned lightly, and then, with an echo like laughter, “I’m afraid you won’t be able to get into boss’ servers by force, but I may be able to let you through if you tell me what you’re looking for.”

Genos had the good grace to look abashed, releasing a small puff of steam from his shoulders as Peter turned to give him a wide-eyed look. He even glanced at Tony, clearly worried.

Tony just snorted, raising his eyebrows. (He did way worse on a regular basis, anyway.)

“You haven’t been here ten minutes and you’re already trying to hack my systems,” he mock-lamented, crossing his arms with a sly smirk. “Why do you even _have_ that capability?” That wasn’t a standard cyborg ability.

Genos hesitated, making as if to step back and shifting his gaze away. “I feel like anything I say will be incriminating,” he said at last.

Tony rolled his eyes, while Peter stifled a laugh. “Tell FRIDAY what you were looking for, she’ll let you in if you’re allowed,” he told him, resigning himself to unrepentant teenagers.

Still looking distinctly uncomfortable at being called out, Genos lifted his gaze back to the speakers.

“I was looking for floor plans and access to security footage,” he informed the AI awkwardly. “Real time only, not the records.”

“Certainly, Genos,” FRIDAY said immediately, and her voice still sounded like laughter. “Floor plans are well within your clearance. I can add labels for the rooms, if you desire.”

“I would be grateful,” Genos acknowledged, letting out another puff of steam. Tony smirked.

“However, you only have partial permissions for security footage,” FRIDAY continued, by all appearances perfectly businesslike. “I can grant you access to the common areas and your own quarters.”

“That is sufficient,” Genos assured her, relaxing a little as he presumably gained access. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“It is no trouble, Genos.”

As soon as FRIDAY went quiet, Peter burst out, “I can’t believe you tried to hack into the Tower. _Right away.”_

Genos coughed, visibly embarrassed, though without the steam this time. “It is habit,” he defended weakly.

“That’s _worse,”_ Peter insisted, but he was fighting off a laugh.

“Give the borg a break,” Tony smirked, eyes glittering with mirth as Genos grew more flustered. “I do the same with every building I enter.”

“I don’t think you’re a positive example, Mr. Stark,” Peter said seriously. Genos made a staticky strangled sound, and a moment later, Tony and Peter both gave in and laughed.

“Alright,” Tony said when he’d recovered, still snickering. “It’s high time we go introduce you two to, well, our half of the team.” His mirth faded. “Peter, you already know these people, so go wild, I guess. Genos, you haven’t, so remember their faces; you’ll be stuck with them for a while.”

Genos’ embarrassment faded from his expression, and he nodded. “Understood.”

 _Don’t say it like that,_ Tony thought crabbily. _I’m not your military commander._

“I can introduce him,” Peter volunteered eagerly, and Tony gestured vaguely in a ‘knock yourself out’ kind of movement, which just made Peter grin wider. Kids were weird.

The elevator had stopped a while ago, the minor fiasco of a security squabble more than enough to pass the time, so Tony nudged Peter off and followed Genos, hanging back a little.

Tony’s people knew better than to expect him to arrive in a timely manner, so they weren’t real inclined to wait idly. Natasha was polishing a gun, by all appearances simply nonchalant. (Natasha’s displays of dominance were one of Tony’s favorite things about her.) On the other couch, Rhodey and Vision were both leaning over a tablet; from the sounds, Tony thought they were watching an old flight documentary.

A flicker of a smile crossed Tony’s face before he lifted his fingers to his mouth and whistled, as obnoxiously loud and piercing as he could make it. He had to duck a knife, courtesy of Natasha, but the way Rhodey jumped and glared was worth it. (The fact that Vision just looked over expectantly was _unfair.)_

Tony smirked at them and gestured broadly at the two beside him. Peter, he noticed, actually looked more fidgety and nervous than Genos, despite having met all of these people before. His eyes flickered from person to person, and his hand rubbed at his elbow restlessly.

“Cyborg and the Spidey,” Tony explained, flicking his fingers lightly. “Now, I’m not Fury, I don’t have any boring files for you, but I think Pinocchio’s is public info and you all know Spidey already, he’s nothing to be scared of.” Peter, who Tony knew could lift weight equaling several semitrucks, made a face at Tony, who gleefully ignored him. “Don’t scare them away now, I know how you all are.” He considered naming names but he didn’t want to die, so he just stared intensely at Natasha, who smirked.

“Hey!” Peter said weakly, waving one hand even as his cheeks colored.

Genos looked less uncomfortable, giving the room a curt nod, though his gaze shifted away as well. “Thank you for agreeing to work with us,” the boy said politely, hands clasping.

Rhodey looked Genos up and down and raised his eyebrows, leaning forward with interest. “How much metal have you got on you?” he asked the cyborg, and then, aside, “Good to have you on the team for real, Spiderboy.”

“98% of my body mass,” Genos answered while Peter grinned at Rhodey in clear delight, and then shifted his gaze to Vision, intent again. “Are you an android?”

Vision gave him a small smile and a slight nod. “I am, yes. It is good to have you both on the team, Peter, Genos.”

“I’m glad that the testosterone in this tower is ever-increasing,” Natasha deadpanned, tipping her head toward them without faltering in polishing her gun.

Genos and Peter made identical weird faces. Tony understood why Peter had made that face, but Genos made him curious. Because he was a cyborg and all his hormones were artificial? Glancing over, he saw something flash behind Natasha’s eyes, because of course she’d caught it too; he wondered what she’d make of it. Peter wasn’t out to the team, but Natasha probably knew anyway.

He dismissed the thought and lingered in place, watching the two new recruits. Genos shifted his weight to one foot, unsure, sweeping his gaze over the others. Peter’s head was tilted toward Genos, obviously waiting on him to act. Natasha leaned back and started putting her gun back together, by all appearances disinterested. Vision looked patient, and Rhodey crossed his arms and moved his gaze to Tony, prompting.

For a brief moment, Tony entertained the thought of Steve, striding forward because he was socially fearless with everyone but women, and starting up a conversation that would probably have them comfortable and open within the first few minutes. His smile faded.

After a long moment, Peter mercifully broke the stalemate, grabbing Genos’ wrist and tugging him forward with inhuman strength. “You should talk to Vision!” Peter informed the boy confidently, ignoring his confused expression. Embarrassment flickered across his face then, and his gaze skittered away before returning to Genos, a little more tentative. “I mean- Vision likes philosophy, and even if you aren’t into it much already, you seem like you would be?”

Genos blinked. “I like philosophy,” he said, and looked up at Vision, who smiled reassuringly and beckoned. Genos tilted his head a little, and then said, “You are not quite all metal, I see…?” The end of his sentence tilted up slightly, his questioning gaze almost boring into Vision.

“Entirely synthetic, however,” Vision said cheerfully, and then tapped the crystal on his head. “Though this may be counted otherwise, being an ancient and mysterious artifact from the depths of space.”

Entirely too much amusement colored his tone, and Tony’s melancholy faded enough for him to huff. He was still annoyed about that; it rubbed him the wrong way. _Ancient and mysterious space artifact._ Ugh.

A flicker of a smile crossed Genos’ face, and he sat down by Vision, careful but quick. Peter flashed Tony a pleased grin and sat on his other side, arms set on his knees. Tony allowed himself a small, brief grin, and then went to sit by Rhodey, who gave him a lightly exasperated look that contained far more amusement. Tony nudged him by way of objection, and Rhodey bumped him back before Tony returned his attention to the others.

“Pound for pound, Vision made have about the same amount of organic material as you,” Peter was telling Genos, excitable and rapid. “Mr. Stark studied his brain a little, and it doesn’t work quite like a regular human’s does but he said that it was ideal for someone whose mind is an AI’s like Vision’s is-”

“Thank you, Peter,” Vision said, gently placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder, and Peter ducked his head.

“Sorry,” he apologized, abashed, and Vision gave him a small smile before looking back up to Genos.

“I’ve had much cause to investigate both the nature of humanity and the construction of morality,” Vision said to him, calm and easy. “However, I’ve done some research in many areas, if your centers of interest lie elsewhere.”

Genos tipped his head a little, considering. “I have also been investigating morality recently,” he said, hesitantly hopeful. “As well as the effects of power?”

Vision smiled. “A matter of interest,” he agreed, and Peter leaned forward, his attention caught.

“Oh, God,” Tony muttered, catching Rhodey’s attention. The man raised an eyebrow, and Tony explained, “Peter talks about how to use power way too much for a kid his age. They could go on _forever.”_

Rhodey snorted. “When I was a kid, I didn’t worry about much more than keeping my head down and my grades up so I could get into MIT,” he complained. “I definitely didn’t worry about _what to do_ with my _superpowers.”_

“You still don’t worry about that, honey-bunch.” Rhodey punched him in the arm, and Tony yelped and rubbed his arm petulantly. “Ow! Don’t shoot the messenger!”

“If I don’t, neither do you,” Rhodey informed him, and then stood up with a grunt and crossed the room; Tony’s response died as his attention caught on the slight whir of his braces, tweaked just a little to help make his walk more natural. “Hey, can I join this robo party or do I need your special brand of existential angst?”

“You are always welcome, Colonel Rhodes,” Vision assured him, shifting a little to make room. Genos looked up, and then his eyes darted briefly down to Rhodey’s legs before he nodded thoughtfully, moving closer to Peter to give Vision more room.

Rhodey sat down with a bump and then tilted his head expectantly at Peter when the boy leaned forward, hands sliding down to his calves. Halfway across the room, Tony took out his phone and pretended not to watch. Natasha, on the other hand, made no pretense.

“Do you like to do that kind of research, Rhodey?” Peter asked, tipping his head.

Tony was so bitter. Why did _Rhodey_ get first-name treatment?

“Some days,” Rhodey shrugged, leaning casually on the arm of the couch. “Most days I’d rather not, though. It’s too abstract, you know? I like something I can use.” He snorted. “Doesn’t apply much in today’s world anyway. Too much has changed in the last ten, fifteen years.”

He got two blank looks and a half-hidden grin from Vision, and Tony covered his face with a suppressed groan. _God,_ he felt old. Why did he always feel old now?

Eventually, Peter bobbed his head in acknowledgement and hummed thoughtfully, clasping his hands. “I guess it’s not so much of an issue on a team,” he said, quick and rambled. “I mean, there are several of you and you talk a lot and have to agree on whatever you do, so…”

Genos turned to look at him, amber-black eyes interested. “Perhaps that is why there are so many hero organizations, and why they are more popular with the public than independent vigilantes?” he suggested.

Peter smiled brightly, sitting up straight again. “Maybe! I know that’s why I tried not to go after situations that were real ambiguous, street fights and drug deals and stuff. I’m just one opinion, right? And there’s the accountability argument, too, that always comes up with vigilantes, and it’s definitely a big deal!”

Genos nodded, tapping his knee as a slight frown creased his face. “Civilians scare easily,” he agreed. “And in this situation it is quite an understandable reaction. After all, if the police will not or cannot deal out consequences for negative actions…” He trailed off.

Vision, smiling in subtle but clear delight, stepped in and remarked, “This is the conflict of the Accords. A system of checks and balances is vital to the success of any official system, but what can check a group of unmatched individuals, and what role does legal procedure have when lives are on the line and the clock is ticking?”

Rhodey shot Tony a look and a shrug. Tony interpreted as _I tried._

Tony understood far, far too well.

“I hate to say it,” Rhodey cut in, leaning over to catch their attention. All three turned to look at him. “but the Accords are pretty bad as-is. It looks like they tried to model it after the procedures used to decide whether or not to start a war, but that’s not what the Avengers are for, you know? The battle’s already started and we need to react. We need _something,_ but the Accords aren’t really it.”

Vision tipped his head, conceding the point. “It is a good thing we have someone with the political influence to alter it, then,” he murmured, gaze cutting briefly to Tony.

Rhodey snorted and grinned a little. “No one else I’d rather be doing it,” he agreed, and then tacked on with a smirk, “As long as he doesn’t try to add in a clause about skimpy uniforms.”

“I should do that,” Tony said on instinct, glancing up from his phone with a smirk of his own. Peter gave him a horrified look and Genos a moderately scandalized one, and he grinned. “Relax, no one would notice anyway. You think people read these things? No. They’re boring and they suck out your soul.”

Tony didn’t know when Natasha had moved – he never did unless she wanted him to – but the next thing he knew she was right behind the four sitting together, right between Peter and Genos but with her eyes on the latter and a sly smirk on her face.

“It wouldn’t bother you any, would it?” she asked, voice tinged with amusement as Genos twisted to give her a confused look. “Don’t tell me you have a metal dick down there, Genos.”

Tony had to bite back a laugh – what adolescent wouldn’t get flustered by a question like that from a woman like _Natasha? –_ and Peter’s head swiveled to give Genos an interested look. Genos blinked, and then, to Tony’s surprise, grinned a little.

“I do!” he informed her without missing a beat, and if the expression on his face wasn’t so guileless Tony would have almost thought it was a poorly advised come-on. “It’s for dysphoria!”

Natasha just nodded, not appearing surprised, and Peter perked up visibly and only hesitated a moment before offering,

“I wouldn’t have thought that a flesh-to-metal transition would cause dysphoria,” he said, carefully casual and not quite meeting Genos’ eyes. “But it makes sense! It is technically a whole new body.”

A moment of hesitation hovered palpably between them, and then Genos smiled again, a little gentler, and nodded.

“Doctor Kuseno said it is not unusual,” he said, and then continued in an even-toned ramble, gaze shifting away, “In many cases where body parts are replaced with mechanical ones there is a sense of confusion and wrongness, particularly when the replacement was abrupt, unexpected, or traumatic. As I understand it, it is not unrelated to phantom limb syndrome, as the mind has an internal picture of what the body should look and act like, and when this does not match to the physical reality precisely-”

“Breathe, Genos,” Vision chuckled, reaching over to tap the cyborg’s shoulder, making him start. Vision glanced over at Tony, a light of amusement in his eyes, and Tony shrugged. Hell, he didn’t know why he attracted the rambling sort. It wasn’t as if _he_ did it or anything. “There is no need for discomfort.”

Genos hummed briefly in acknowledgement, fans speeding up audibly for a moment before settling again.

“As much as I like philosophy,” Rhodey said into the ensuing silence, fixing an expectant look on Genos, “that isn’t exactly the focus of this team. What are your combat abilities like?”

Genos considered visibly and Peter perked up a little, excited.

“Why don’t you and I go spar?” Vision suggested, shifting to float to his feet and then turning around to look at Genos again. Genos brightened.

“Certainly,” he agreed.


End file.
